


Steal A Sleep, A Moment

by highestkingbambi



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Margo POV, Missing Scene, Quentin POV, Set just before Season 3 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 12:30:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16063205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highestkingbambi/pseuds/highestkingbambi
Summary: Back at the Physical Kids Cottage after being crowned High King of Fillory, Margo wakes after falling asleep beside her two best friends.





	Steal A Sleep, A Moment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohmarqueliot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmarqueliot/gifts).



> For [ohmarqueliot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmarqueliot). Go read her stuff, it's fantastic. Thank you for your support of [The Magicians Rec Center](https://themagiciansreccenter.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Thank you to [V](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildeBones) for the beta. My writing is always stronger because of you.

Margo didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch part way through the research on the location of the castle. They had been at it for hours, searching book after book, online journal after online journal. They’d made their way through archives of every artistic rendering of every castle ever built, drawn, painted—even fucking tapestries. Eugh, just remembering Josh impersonate Harrison Ford’s terrible Scottish accent from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade had her seeing flames. 

“Hey, Margo, you awake?” That same irritating voice asked, though thankfully he’d left the terrible accent behind. 

“No, fuck off,” she mumbled, more out of reflex than from genuine vitriol. 

“Just thought you might want to cover this up before the rest of the Cottage wakes up,” Josh said, probably pointing at something, but with her eyes still closed, his actions were about as useless as a plugin dildo in Fillory. 

When Josh failed to explain, she reluctantly opened her left eye and saw him gesture towards the opposite side of the couch. Still getting used to having a second eye again, she rubbed her palms against them both to clear the sleep and turned her head to see what Josh was talking about. 

Wrapped up in Eliot’s arms laid Quentin, their legs intertwined as they hung awkwardly off the edge of the couch. Margo noticed her bare feet were pressed up against Quentin’s thigh and wondered how he was still asleep after she had moved. 

“So what? It’s cute,” she said, glaring at Josh. “You got a problem with grown men spooning?”

“Me, no? I’ll spoon whoever I can—have you ever woken up in Todd’s beautiful arms? It’s delightful,” Josh said without missing a beat. “Look a little closer.”

Margo turned her entire body and caused a small unconscious whine to escape Quentin’s lips at the removal of her feet from his leg. Upon closer inspection, she saw that Eliot’s left hand was covered entirely up to the wrist by the denim of Quentin’s jeans while the latter’s fly was left wide open. 

She let out a sigh. “I’m not his fucking keeper,” Margo said finally. 

“Aren’t you though?” Josh replied with a broad smile. His shoulders rose to meet his ears, complimenting his sarcastic tone. For a moment, Margo wanted to smack his smug fucking grin off his face, but she was still half asleep—and it wouldn’t work anyway; he was basically a human Weeble. 

“Look. I’m happy for them. We all deserve a bright spot in this shit situation, my King,” he said with a gracious bow. “But ahh.”

“Alright. Whatever. I’ll take care of it,” Margo shooed him away. She didn’t want to disturb Eliot and Quentin in their sleep, but she could understand what Josh meant. Not everyone in their little group had been so lucky with love. 

***

The sound of Josh’s feet padding up the stairs of the Cottage woke Quentin from his sleep. Stirring gently, he felt the touch of warm skin against his lips, and his body was enveloped in a comforting bear hug. A large hand rested snuggly over his balls, separated from his skin by the thin cotton of his boxers, while another rested on his ass. He must have fallen asleep in Eliot’s arms—the first time since they had been reunited on Earth. 

Quentin smiled and kissed the finger on his lips before his sleep-dulled brain realized there was an extra hand on his body. 

“Shh.” He opened his eyes to see Margo leaning over him, wiping her finger on the couch. “Don’t wake El,” she whispered, her face just as earnest as the night of their ill-advised threesome. He didn’t need her to tell him that Eliot needed as much sleep as he could get—he had more than enough experience with Eliot’s insomnia. 

“How long have we been asleep?” Quentin asked her quietly. He tried to keep his body still to avoid waking his sleeping partner. 

Margo quickly checked a stray phone left on the coffee table in front of them. She held it up to reveal that it was just past five in the morning. “Maybe two hours?” she guessed, offering him a half-hearted shrug. “I have no idea what time we passed out.”

“You too?” Quentin asked, unable to keep the smile from his face. The thought of a sleepy Margo curled up on a little corner of the couch was more adorable than he’d ever let her know. 

“Shut up and put your dick back in your pants,” she said, almost as if she knew what he was thinking. Successfully stifling a laugh, he closed his eyes took a moment to savor the small taste of peace and happiness he had been able to find in a world devoid of Wellspring magic.

“I'm not being sarcastic Q, you’re peeking,” Margo said with surprising sincerity, ending his moment.

Quentin looked down to see that Margo was completely genuine. It wouldn’t take much more than Eliot’s hands to brush against a sensitive spot, and he would burst through the waistband of his boxers. “So I guess you know,” he blushed. 

“What? That ‘The Notebook’ has nothing on your epic love story?” Margo teased, making it obvious she knew more than he expected her to. “Did you think he would be able to keep that a secret from me?” she said as she licked her sleep-cracked lips. “It was about time you two admitted what I've always known” she added, giving him a wink. 

Having Margo on their side filled his chest with blissful contentment, but he knew it might not be the same response from the rest of their friends. With a distinct lack of enthusiasm, Quentin gently moved Eliot’s hand from inside his jeans, to a slightly less compromising position on his stomach and zipped up his fly. Being so overt about their relationship wouldn’t be fair to Kady, who lost the love of her life to their quest; or Penny23, who still kind of hated him for what a completely different Quentin did. And he still didn’t know what the fuck was going on in Alice’s head—even if she seemed like she couldn’t care less, he didn’t want to sway her loyalty against them—again.

“Margo,” he said her name quietly, still trying to let Eliot sleep. “Thank you.”

“You break his heart, and I’ll let Abigail choose your torture,” she said without blinking. Quentin felt the blood in his veins go cold—that sloth was sadistic. 

“I won’t,” he assured her. 

“Good.” Margo petted his forearm softly before retiring back to her side of the couch. “I made him promise me the same thing about you.” Before he could respond, Margo folded her body up into the fetal position and closed her eyes. “Now go the fuck back to sleep.”


End file.
